


Two for the Price of One

by NiiSanNinjaSensei



Series: My Tumblr Works [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Fashion Designer!Dorian, M/M, Rich people are asses, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 08:22:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16950402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiiSanNinjaSensei/pseuds/NiiSanNinjaSensei
Summary: Buy the rumour, sell the fact.Rumour: Esteemed Dorian Pavus lost his fortune because he never got his Marks.Fact: Dorian Pavus's Marks were identical.//In a society where one arm bears the mark of your most beloved, and the other arm the mark of your most hated, people spend years gossiping as they see which one is which, yet the fate of a Markless is much easier then the life Dorian Pavus has to lead.





	Two for the Price of One

**Author's Note:**

> For the Prompt: Every person is born with a tattoo on each arm. One matches your soulmate, and one matches your worst enemy. However, most people have no clue which is which, you do, because they are both the same.

There was gossip for every little thing; Aria could only afford an off-white brim hat for her vacation to Italy (It was in fashion in Italy), Jasper bought Romily a silver instead of platinum engagement ring -And it was only two carat!- (She didn’t want anything fancy), and did anyone hear again from Pierre who was said to have killed himself? (He was seen that morning)

Normal, idle, and not so very juicy gossip.

But then there was the bigger gossip, which influenced people in severe ways; Vincent’s lover is falling for his enemy! (It was a typical threesome) Isabella’s lover is a taxi driver! (a cruel twist of fate) Halward’s son still hasn’t gotten his Marks, is he normal? (Some take time to develop)

It was normal for the rich families to gossip, to try and ruin each other’s lives for the sake of profiting off their misfortune, and it was very fortunate that the rumours of the Pavus family couldn’t bring them down, yet.

It was true, Halward’s only son – Dorian Pavus – was already at the tender age of thirteen and he still has bare arms. It was rare, too rare, to have Marks develop this late. He was taken to doctors and specialists, even a medium to contact his ancestors for advice, but no one had any answers.

Dorian, was alright with that. In a world where these Marks determine not only who you will spend the rest of your life with, but also who you will hate until death, it was a relief to still be able to wander around without a care in the world.

He made his own friends and enemies, kissed some girls (and in the dark boys), and only felt childish glee as his flings gasped in embarrassment as they cradled their Marks close to their chest. Poor things. He prayed that his arms would forever stay bare, his entertainment the last thirteen years has been relentless.

… … …

The rumours never did die down, not until a year later when Halward woke up to find his son frantically banging on his door. The man got of his bed irritated and ready to smack Dorian back into bed, but when he opened the door to find his son frantically scratching at his arms, he only felt his blood run cold.

… … …

It was busy as always. Makeup artists and models rushing around as they prepared for the show. There was talking and yelling, some tears, someone was playing loud pop music from their phone, and other tried to outdo them with an overture.

Dorian both loved and hated it. A techie ran into a model and caused a scene which he turned a blind eye to, he couldn’t be bothered to nurse a model’s ego right now, because tonight was all about _him._ Tonight he would finally show his dearest father that he didn’t need his fame and fortune to create his own!

He was delirious with his self-made power; everyone was here, everyone important at least. He managed to successfully invite those with influence superior to his father’s, and he knew that his show would not only show the world what his mind could create, but that it inspire his very important guests to bring him up more often in their very important conversations.

_As long as it doesn’t involve these dammed Marks._

The thought had him self-consciously rub at his covered arms, the beginnings of a bitter taste entering his mouth.

“Dorian!”

Grateful for the distraction, he whipped around to see his dearest friend briskly walking over to him. Worry consumed him as he rushed over to his friend and forced the man to stop lest he fall over and die.

“How many times have I told you to send my assistant for me?”

“I can walk Dorian.”

“Into your own grave yes.”

Dorian couldn’t care much for the wry grin his friend gave him. Felix might also have the blood of very important people in his veins, but his blood was also corrupted with illness. It wasn’t a topic for discussion of any kind, yet knowing that his friend would die far too soon, he found no harm into making it into another amusing topic.

“So please enlighten me as to why you’re taunting death for the sake of speaking with me?”

Felix’s eyes suddenly sparkled with mischievous delight.

“You’ll never guess who’s here.”  
  
“I set up the guest list.”

His friend shook his head and gripped onto Dorian’s upper arms with excitement.

“ _She_ came.”

Dorian couldn’t stop the surprised squeal escaping him. Some heads turned, but he could barely care for more rumours spreading about him when he shared in Felix’s delight. _She came!_

This very important person the two became so delighted about was none other than Lady Trevelyan herself. It was rare for such titles to still excited in today’s age, but the reasoning behind such an old fashioned title should be enough to have anyone understand that she was much more than a very important person, she was the most important person.

Her status was a strange one, although she mainly participated in political matters, she was also found far too often at other trivial places, such as Dorian’s show. _Dorian’s show. His. She came._

Not even the esteemed Halward Pavus could ever achieve this.

Suddenly feeling light-headed, Dorian allowed Felix to gently lower him into a nearby chair.

“Maker, she came!”

“And she brought her toy.”

 _Ah of course._ Lady Trevelyan’s personal toy. Not much was known about him, nor has many seen him, but the rumours were too juicy for Dorian to miss out on.

A strapping young man who managed to wiggle his way from nothing to Lady Trevelyan’s very own… something. Their relationship was too private to move beyond anything but speculation, and thus far the only possibilities were they were in romantic relationship which produced more rumours.

_He owed her a favour, he needs the money, they are both secretly freakishly kinky and no one else can cater to their needs. Do they even have the same mark?_

The possibilities went on, but knowing that her personal toy to be present as well, didn’t provide as much excitement. With another happy sigh, Dorian kissed his friend on his cheeks, and with a merry laugh rushed to ensure his show went successful.

… … …

It was more than successful. After the show, Dorian was approached by many of his invited important people, many who praised him for his creativity and acclaiming him as the new Father of Fashion! It was exhilarating, and the high was better than what any drug could ever provide.

Still riding high, Dorian almost didn’t notice the most important person stalking up to him. A sharp jab in his ribs from Felix, had Dorian spot lady Trevelyan in time before he made a fool of himself (one more scandal to his name).

Perfecting his already perfect posture, Dorian gave his most charming smile towards the woman as she approached him with a swaggering walk. _He sometimes wondered how she was called a Lady if she walked like a toad._

“Lady Trevelyan, it is an absolute honour to have you here. I never knew you dabbled in the world of aesthetics.”

She gave an easy smile and dismissed his formality with a wave of her hand.

“I’m tired of being called that, please drop the title, it gets boring.”

“In that case, you may use my first name as well Trevelyan.”

A dart of his eyes to the left had Dorian notice someone not standing too far away from them, the person in question did not seem very important nor confident enough to be in such a place. He suddenly feared for the safety of his models, when Trevelyan followed his gaze and broke into a smile.

“Cullen, come here.”

The man came closer, and Dorian was instantly repulsed at the man’s state of dress. It wasn’t his choice of clothes which was insulting, a fine fitting two piece tuxedo, but rather it was the hideous faux fur draped over his neck. It was out of place and vile, Dorian never understanding the aesthetic of animals in fashion. _What if it’s real? Are there rumours for it?_

Deciding to not cause an upset stomach from the man’s taste of fashion, Dorian instead turned his eyes to the visage of a god. _Gorgeous._ His mind supplied the word before he himself could understand why he found such aesthetic so overwhelming. He never liked blonds, or the shy ones, yet his heart leapt like a skittish foal as he mentally absorbed the face in front of him.

_Regal cheekbones, strong jaw, soft eyes, chapped lips, is that a scar-_

“Dorian, this is my assistant Cullen Rutherford.”

 _Assistant?_ A light jab on his buttock from Felix was enough for Dorian to understand that this not so important person was, in fact, Lady Trevelyan’s toy.

Still he extended his hand to capture Cullen’s much stronger one, and smiled pleasantly.

“I do hope you enjoyed the show?”

“Seemed a bit pointless to me.”

Dorian’s eyes widened enough for Felix to notice, who in his very kind ways intercepted before Dorian could fully showcase his shock.

“The world of fashion might not be for everyone, but it’s easy enough to see the statement Dorian worked so long to achieve has successfully been brought across tonight.”

The insufferable blond only slightly shrugged his shoulders and averted all eye contact.

“The time and resources could have been used so much better.”

The words were soft, but it was loud enough for Dorian to hear. He squared his shoulders and was about to defend his honour, when Lady Trevelyan decided it was her turn to intercept.

“Dorian, I invite you to my dinner party this weekend. I don’t have the energy to keep up with all these people, maybe you can help me to divide and conquer all the prying eyes?”

It was gracious offer, Dorian an esteemed guest at Lady Trevelyan’s estate? One could simply not refuse. Pushing the words of the insensitive blond out of his head, Dorian gave an old fashioned bow as an acceptance to the offer.

… … ..

That night Dorian’s mother called to congratulate him on his success. _Not only did they broadcast it, but several blogs have already published about the show! Can you believe word spreads so fast Dorian?_  He could hear her tears of joy, and he remembered his fondness for her. It was once again easy enough to forget his Marks as she overwhelmed him with praise.

It was easy enough to forget until his father’s voice soon infiltrated the phone.

… … …

Lady Trevelyan’s dinner parties weren’t esteemed for being the most luxurious, rather for its impressive guest list: Josephine Montilyet; Antivian Chief Ambassador, Cassandra Allegra Portia Calogera Filomena Pentaghast; Devout Right Hand of the Divine, Varric Tethras; acclaimed author of questionable novels – although they were the most impressive figures, just as important people tagged along to these dinners.

And now Dorian was a part of these important people, perhaps not very important, but still important.

He was allowed to drag Felix with him, only as the man also carried an impressive enough title inherited from his father. The few eyes that turned to pair were more out of aesthetic appreciation rather than to gather more information to spread rumours.

 _Remember Dorian,_ his mother would say, _every words and gesture is fuel to the raging fire of our society. There will never be time for you to gather your wits, back straight and always smile. Don’t frown, and remember, always hide your arms._

His arms, of course. Luckily for him it wasn’t a norm amongst the rich and famous to give away such vital information; your lover and enemy. It could ruin families, businesses, nations. The only time he ever saw anyone gloating about their Marks, were when they finally found their lovers – their enemy still brewing in a dark corner waiting to be discovered.

Luckily for Dorian, he would never have to show either arm. _I am Markless, he would easily say when someone tries to pry his clothes off. An easy lie to explain away the too tight black bands covering his arms. Not a rare sight, but still disgraceful._

Felix once again saved him, bless his wilting soul, when he dragged him over to table filled covered in too many _hors d’oeuvres_ for the hundred people attending. Her parties were never big, but they were very important.

“Not even Halward had such fancy food.”

“That’s because he pissed off the chef.”

Felix ignored his vulgarity in favour of picking up a _canapé_ and promptly shoving it into his mouth. He moaned in delight and Dorian could only find himself to smile as his friend enjoyed the finer things in life.

“Dorian, I see you made yourself at home.”

Dorian turned his attention away from Felix to observe Trevelyan swagger over to him, her toy following closely.

“It’s been a long time since I was able to indulge in such exquisite cuisine.”

“It’s just a cucumber with yoghurt.”

The words were mumbled, but Dorian caught them quick enough to track them down in the direction of Cullen Rutherford.

“Cullen, a pleasure.”

“Same to you.”

The man’s lack of etiquette grated on Dorian’s nerves, yet he still found himself drawn to the man. It was too contradictory, more so than he would have ever preferred.

“Cullen, give Dorian a tour please, I see Cassandra found Varric.”

Trevelyan promptly left the blond on his own, who suddenly seemed all too out of place. Dorian would have felt sorry for him, if not for the hideous faux fur once again still in sight.  

“Well then, we should go?”

Dorian was about to decline, when Felix decided for him.

“He would be delighted!”

Dorian was unwillingly shoved into Cullen, who offered a wry smile and started walking away in hopes that Dorian would follow. He didn’t want to, but he still did.

“So anything particular you want to see?”

“Usually the guest makes requests after seeing at least two rooms.”

“Oh, which rooms?”

Dorian wanted to strangle the man to death. How could the toy of Lady Trevelyan be so hopeless? He must have been staring for too long, because Cullen started to turn red.

“What?”

“How is it that the to- assistant of Lady Trevelyan is unable to keep up with this lifestyle?”

Cullen didn’t respond at first, taken aback by the question.

“Because it’s not my job.”

“So what _is_ your job?”

_Dorian Pavus, the first to know the truth!_

“Not allowed to tell.”

“Ex-excuse me?”

His bluntness, his utter bluntness had Dorian almost experience a heart attack. This was not how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to admit to a rumour, or spin a new one, or even casually flirt with Dorian in the process, _not outright say he can’t tell!_

Cullen shrugged again and lead them into a room with walls decorated with antique mosaic pieces. In other time Dorian might have marvelled at the art, but right now he was all too baffled with the uncultured man in front of him.

“I know the rumours of her and I, is it really true that they think she’s some of sex freak?”

“Is it false?”

“Of course it is!”

The embarrassment on the blond’s face was almost enough to make up for his lack of manners, yet ire still lurked underneath Dorian’s skin.

“Well then, entertain another rumour will you? Do you share Marks?”

“No.”

The answer was quick, and not at all what Dorian expected.

“Then, please help me here, how did you manage to become her lapdog?”

The words came out before he could think, and the sudden furrow of Cullen’s brow had Dorian realise his mistake far too late.

“I really hate you people, always prying in everyone else’s business. Well then sir Pavus, I also know a thing or two about you-”

_So even the middle-class has heard about me-_

“First of all, who are you to ask about Marks when you walk around without one? Secondly, I hardly think you’re allowed to ask about people’s sex lives when yours caused your own downfall-“

“-excuse me, when did my sexuality cause this?”

“An only son, heir, gay and suddenly thrown out. It couldn’t be you being Markless, lots of heirs still get married off to. Thirdly-”

“-I think that’s quite enough sir Rutherford.”

He couldn’t bear to be in the present of the other man any longer. With brewing anger, Dorian quickly left the blond in search for Felix.

… … …

_“I heard about your show.”_

_“Indeed.”_

_“Are you done with your games now Dorian?”_

_“Did you hear, Lady Trevelyan was there~ Wasn’t it just last month when she declined your invitation-”_

_“-Dorian! Stop this nonsense and come back already!”_

_“Why would I do that father?”_

_“Or I tell them the truth.”_

… … ...

Dorian’s life since his first show hasn’t slowed down. After the success, he quickly built up enough contacts to launch his official clothing line for the market. Soon his days were filled with designs and research, meetings with various people to ensure that no Feredlen hands tainted his hard work, they were barbarians when it came to fashion.

Felix was kind enough to ensure he was still alive each day by providing food and forcing his assistant to have him locked in his bedroom before midnight for a good night’s rest.

He was living in his glory days, and all was well, until Felix sighed and dropped a tabloid on his desk which scattered his pins.

“You’re picking that up.”

“Just read it Dorian.”

In all honesty, Dorian never needed the tabloids as his mother ensured he knew about the latest gossip before it reached official ears. Yet for a second time in his life, Dorian one-upped his father; he was on the cover page of the Spymaster (The only tabloid any respectable member of society dared to trust).    

He had no idea where they managed to find such a photo of him _perhaps at the show,_ but he could vainly agree that it was indeed a very good photo.

“Stop admiring yourself and read.”

“Yes, yes.”

It was only then that his eyes landed on the heading.

… … …

“-mother really, it’s not my fault that man is so barbaric-”

“-Dorian-”

“-how should I have known he was standing so _close_ to me- “

“-son-”

“-and really, the real scandal here is the fact the photo of evidence they have is of me in the most unflattering angle-”

“Dorian, quiet.”

Dorian instinct bit his tongue and cautiously played with his nails. It was rare for his mother to speak to him in such a harsh tone. They didn’t speak to each other as often as he would have liked, his father ever paranoid that more rumours would spread, so instead he treasured the time she was able to secretly contact him.

“At least they’re not talking about your Marks, having an affair with Lady Trevelyan’s supposed lover would not be the end for you.”

“Are you suggesting that I encourage this?”

“Alissa has been telling all the families of how you still wear your armbands, even her own Markless son isn’t wearing his anymore.”

“How did she see?”

“You went to a public pool Dorian.”

Of course he did.

With a resigned groan, Dorian squeezed his eyes shut and thought of all the possibilities; encourage the rumours of an affair with Cullen in favour no one talking about his Marks anymore.

“I thought father wanted to tell everyone the truth?”

“He still loves you Dorian.”

“Of course he does.”

… … ...

It was after his clothes line hit the market when Lady Trevelyan invited Dorian for an exclusive dinner at her estate. He should have felt honoured, but he dreaded the topic of discussion which has been in the limelight for the past few weeks.

“Sir Pavus.”

The Butler took Dorian’s coat and led him to dining room where Lady Trevelyan and Cullen were already seated. The table was already decked for dinner, and Dorian was seated on the left side of Lady Trevelyan and forced to look into Cullen’s eyes.

“Dorian, I’m glad you came.”

“Always a pleasure Trevelyan.”

Cullen remained silent, instead he stared at Dorian with intensity which was uncalled for.

“Something on your mind sir Rutherford?”

“You don’t seem worried about the tabloids.”

His bluntness never ceased to amaze Dorian, well two could play at that game.

“It’s just another rumour, it will soon die down and then people will turn to the next big thing.”

“But it’s not dying down-”

Lady Trevelyan was interrupted by the chef announcing their starter _Rare Honey Glazed Druffalo with Sweet Plums._

The trio cautiously started to eat when she continued.

“As I was saying, it’s not dying down. Between the confusion of our relationship and you being not only Markless but basically disowned by your family, the people are having the fun most they had in years.”

“And this required a dinner invite?”

She smiled secretly at Cullen who was steadily growing irritated. With sudden ferocity, he stood up and slammed his hands on the table.

“This might be a game to you, but rumours like that won’t benefit-”

“Sorry to interrupt your passionate lecture, but rumours are part of the Game we play. You’re not rich or famous, so please sit down and allow the adults to take care of this.”

Cullen flung himself away from the table and stormed out of the room. Dorian was sad to see him go, yet at the same time he relished at riling the man up. _A contradiction._

Appetite somewhat lost, Dorian forced the last bit of Druffulo down his throat as Lady Trevelyan regarded him with a curious eye.

“You have to be patient with him, it’s only been a year since he’s started to live this life.”

“As your assistant?”

“You mean my toy?”

_Aha!_

“So it’s true!”

“No it’s not.”

Dorian was once again stumped into a corner. A headache was forming, his arms were starting to become numb from having to wear his armbands for three days straight.

“Well that was delightfully mean, toying with my selfishness as to discover whatever-”

“Dorian.”

Her eyes had him be quiet.

“We live in a society where our Marks determine our lives, in our case it even determines our deaths.”

She placed down her cutlery and had a servant take away her dish, instructing another to bring out wine.

“We all struggle with this power. Imagine that my Mark signalled you as my enemy, or as my lover, how easily would that determine your fate?”

“I know this.”

“Now imagine… possessing only one such fate. We are free to choose to pursue our enemies or lovers, now imagine yourself only having one Mark which could signify either of them, yet not both of them.”

“I don’t follow.”

The room was empty, no servants were allowed unless summoned. Lady Trevelyan had on a simple business suit, with one sleeve longer than the other. Her exposed arm held a beautiful image of an electric green explosion, something she was often proud to expose.

With deft fingers, she rolled up her other sleeve to expose… nothing. There was nothing.

“I don’t understand.”

“No one does.”

She had only one Mark, _one._

“How does this…”

She rolled down her sleeve again, just in time as their main dish came through _Sautéed Halla Brisket with Duchess Potatoes and Creamed Pumpkin served with a Nug Blood Reduction._

“I worked just as hard as you did, pushing myself to reach the top so my own Mark won’t determine my life. I know you’re not Markless, and so does a few others, but still no one knows why you’re so determined to hide this…”

“Why Cullen then?”

“A close friend of mine is all.”

“I still don’t understand.”

“Cullen and I have agreement, since he has two Marks he has both a lover and an enemy. He is free to do as he wishes with my money, but when he finds his lover I will have the Mark tattooed onto my arm – that way I can freely walk around with him posing as my lover while his real lover will enter my family as an esteemed member and they will reap their own benefits.”

“That is very complicated and flawed, why would he agree to such a thing?”

“Cullen is a simple man with simple needs, as long as he holds the promise of finding his lover, he will do whatever I ask of him.”

“And why would he find his lover amongst the rich and wealthy?”

“You know how the Marks work.”

_Of course he does._

… … …

_The Marks were more than determination of friend and foe, it indicated status and emotion. The larger and more colourful the Mark, the happier and wealthier the couple would be (His own parents had adoring snakes coiled around their wrists in astonishing colour, colourful but small. Wealthy but unhappy.)_

_The colour was the main factor, it never indicated your lover’s wealth, it indicated the couple’s wealth. How they would prosper, it was the only reason Dorian hasn’t burnt his Marks yet._

_They weren’t impressive in size, but their colour had his mother’s eyes tear at the beauty._

… … …

His life only got busier from that day onwards. He had no idea why Lady Trevelyan was so invested in him, but he could hardly complained when all rumours regarding his Marks turned to gossip about his relationship with her. Everyone knew by now he had no sexual interest with any of the women he interacted with, instead their eyes turned to him and Cullen.

They were always at the same events, and they were always together.

At his second show Cullen insulted his choice of silk as it was far too expensive and he should have opted for a white plaid weave _over his dead body._ Then he insulted his Dalish models as they were too fair for the clothes he made them wear, _and then he insulted Dorian’s own fashion. Why would he embed faux diamonds into his clothes?_

_Why would you wear faux fur?_

_It’s not faux_

_So you kill animals_

_Mind your own business_

The Spymaster then published an entire article of how Cullen Rutherford gave the Father of Fashion fashion advice, as well as how their affair appeared to not have gained any concern from Lady Trevelyan’s side.

_So are they truly lovers?_

_Why would she keep such a barbaric lapdog?_

… … …

The first time they didn’t insult each other was when Dorian was once again invited to Lady Trevelyan’s estate, but as she was busy Cullen was left to entertain Dorian. He expected more brutish insults to the lives of very important people, but instead the man led him to the garden where he heavily sat down at a chess table.

“You’ve been here almost every day for the past three months, there isn’t any more rooms to show.”

The words charmed Dorian _Cullen does have charm it seem_ and he joined the man at the game

They didn’t speak for the first few minutes, but the blunt blond could barely keep his questions to himself.

“So you know of the deal?”

“Which one?”

“She has one Mark, she wants my lover’s Mark.”

“Ah that, yes I do.”

Cullen moved his knight.

“I also know you’re not Markless.”

“What ever gave that idea?”

Dorian moved a pawn as bait.

“Markless people aren’t so defensive over it, in fact they’re the ones who usually turn into sex fiends.”

“Has my own sexual adventures not been notorious enough?”

Cullen didn’t take the bait, he moved his rook.

“You kiss unmarried men in dark corners, then you’re sometimes in brothels. It’s not really that exciting.”

Dorian took his rook out of spite.

“Tell me then, I am so out of touch, what are the rumours if they don’t say I’m Markless?”

“That you’re Marks tie you to a poor family, your enemy is someone important… that showing your Marks would officially make you gay.”

“Officially make me gay?”

“Some think it’s an act.”

“Why would I ever?”

“Another scandal, another rumour, away from your Marks.”

_Rumours, Marks, Important People._

A never ending cycle, a world Dorian was forced into.

“What do you think Cullen?”

“I think you’re scared.”

“Of what?”

“Your Marks.”

… … …

They weren’t friends after that, but they didn’t dislike each other as much. They bickered and still insulted each other’s views on society – but the topic of Dorian’s sexuality and Marks were never brought up again. The matter was far too complicated to discuss with someone who didn’t know the Game, a not important person with boring rumours.

_Dorian Pavus, Markless and Gay? Scandalous! How will Halward ever recover! Scandalous!_

_Dorian Pavus, identical Marks? Abomination, unnatural – no wonder he turned gay, he must be so confused!_

_Dorian Pavus, mirror Marks? He’s better off Markless. How can you both love and hate someone? Poor man._

He could construct a thousand more rumours if his Marks were revealed, yet it was useless.

Sometimes he wondered why his Marks mattered so much, so what if he had identical Marks. That only meant his lover and enemy were the same, why did it matter?

 _Imagine it Dorian_ his mother said as her finger trailed the explosion of colour on his arm _the two of you rolling in riches and status, it must come from a great scandal!_

_What’s the scandal?_

_Imagine it Dorian, bound to love your enemy? To hate your lover? It would be the unhappiest marriage, you’ll kill each other._

_Why is it a scandal?_

She never answered him, but he knew the answer.

… … …

There were only three people who knew of his Marks; Halward, his mother and Felix. Of all of them, it was only Felix who indulged in his fantasies.

“So let’s see. Colourful, but small-”

“It’s bigger than my mother’s-”

“But it’s smaller than mine.”

Felix’s left Mark extended all the way from his palm to his shoulder – it was black with patches of red in between. It promised a love so deep and pure but with no wealth, or a hatred to consuming but without any real motivation.

Dorian was envious, but the admiration in Felix’s eyes as he traced the colour stretching across his inner forearm had him crush his envy. Felix’s Mark promised passion, but it would be brief if he ever found it.

Marks never faded if your other died, it just stayed until you died too. Another cruel fate (Some tried to hide it amongst other tattoos, but it was always too easy to spot the real one).

“Normal ones usually wrap right around, right?”

“Indeed.”

“You’re going to be loaded, _look at it Dorian!_ ”

And he did, and he felt pride at having something like it, yet his mind still supplied the harsh truth.

_Colour; wealth and motivation. A loving wealth, a motivated hate._

The colour would mean an infinite bank account yes, but for him, it also meant a hate so deep and pure it would possibly kill him prematurely.

“How do you think you would meet?”

“It would probably be my fault.”

… … …

Upon meeting an enemy or lover (even without knowing you share the same Mark) it was never immediate the rush of emotions one would feel. The emotions were there yes, underlying and sometimes very confusing, but it wasn’t until both parties decided to act upon these emotions that the everlasting bond would begin.

It could start with a kiss or a punch, none would know.

But Dorian hardly considered that both would be his case.

It was another gala, another time for Cullen and Dorian to argue about society and Marks and how very important people kept looking at them to concoct even more rumours. It was starting to become very tiring, and Dorian never made good decisions when he was bored, so upon wanting to silence the ranting man in front of him – Dorian deftly swooped the man in for a kiss _to entice the rumours, the have the tabloids have more to talk about, to further distract them from his Marks_ when in return he only received a swift punch to his jaw.

It was the anger and lust in the blond’s eyes which distracted Dorian enough to ignore the burning of his arms.

_Fuck._

… … …

“Mother, help me.”

“What is it Dorian?”

“I met them…”

“Who is it?”

“Mother…”

… … …

Two days later the Spymaster’s main article held more information than Dorian knew he was able to give anyone. It was thoroughly researched and he wondered if his father had a say in half of it – another way to only be a part of the rumours, but this… this wasn’t a rumour.

_Dorian Pavus and Cullen Rutherford kissing at the Inquisitor’s Gala………..Dorian Pavus rejected…………Cullen Ruterford and Lady Trevelyan finally declared as lovers…………is this an end to an affair?..............Dorian’s Marks…………._

It should have been an end to his Marks, to his disgrace… this should have been the first step to his bright future. An end to his past… With tears in his eyes, Dorian contacted his only redemption.

… … …

“Welcome home son.”

Dorian didn’t greet his father, instead he instructed the servant where to place all of his bags before making his way to his old room. Nothing has changed since he left, and he could barely care as he flopped onto his bed and dreaded the future.

As a child he was proud of being Markless, and when he woke up to find twin Marks on his arms he knew he would never again have an easy life… yet to actually meet the person who was meant for him in so many more ways than one, it wasn’t something he was prepared for.

He could feel it; the burning rage of rejection and utter disgust for a man so _uncultured,_ yet the lure of very same man and his cunning shyness… it tore him apart.

Did Lady Trevelyan know this? Did she know his secret, and how could she ever… How does any of this fit into place… He left home to show his father he doesn’t need the rumours or the very important people to find his own way… he doesn’t need a Markless woman to pose as his wife… he doesn’t need anyone.

He needs Cullen.

… … …

_“Seriously your Marks can’t be that bad.”_

_“Are you one to talk barbarian?”_

_“Is it a dog?”_

_“No.”_

_“A nug?”_

_“I would have cut my arm off then.”_

_“Come on it can’t be that bad.”_

_“How about you then Cullen, are you proud of yours.”_

_The twinkle in his eye as he gripped his forearm._

_“I think mine is… spectacular.”_

And it wasn’t anymore, because Dorian now knew what it stood for. He saw the tabloids, the previously covered arm of Lady Trevelyan exposed to reveal the Mark she claimed to her lover’s, Cullen’s own identical.

It wasn’t Dorian’s Mark – it wasn’t the spectacle he saw every day of his life.

_Lady Trevelyan’s entire wrist wrapped in a brilliant silver gauntlet with streaks of blood over it. Oddly medieval, oddly knightly, perfectly suited for the lover of Cullen._

… … …

He never contacted Lady Trevelyan again, but she was kind enough to call Felix and inform him of any new delicious scandals.

He continued his fashion work, whether his father agreed to it or not. His clothing line became the most popular in Tevinter, as expected, and the Orlesians weren’t too far behind.

He agreed to at least befriend the Markless woman who was promised to him before he left, lest more rumours come about him – at least she was understanding enough that he had no intentions of every being sexually involved with her (another Pavus heir be dammed).

And he still woke up every morning to adore the colour on his arms, only to hatefully scratch at them with tears until his mother carefully pried his hands away.

Two weeks later Felix met his lover, and a month later he died happier than Dorian ever thought he would.

… … …

The rumours started to change; Dorian Pavus never was Markless (he hid them as instructed by his parents), he was never gay (he only did it for the scandal), Dorian Pavus was sterile (it’s been two years since he married his wife and was still no heir)

It tired him to end, another tabloid going on and on about what his Mark could be – something he still refused to share in case careless Cullen did so on his part. Yet in the two years since that gala, Cullen has still carefully kept his other arm away from public view.

It confused him to no end, and still he woke up to both love and hate his Marks.

He wished Felix was here, the only one to understand, yet he could never mourn his friend for having a happy death. He would never dare to take that away from him.

“Dorian, you’ve been working for too long – come to bed.” His wife, Anais, was beautiful and kind and would have made Dorian happy if not for the fact that his heart was already plagued by another.

“The show is in two months, I need to make this perfect.”

“Why is that?”

“Another statement.”

“A declaration?”

Her question was answered when she viewed his works, a stunning reflecting of the artwork on his arm.

“I see.”

“I’m tired of hiding it, I’m tired of all of this damn Game. I want the rumours to stop.”

She said nothing, only gently patted his shoulder as his mother would and went to her own bed in her own room, conjoined to Dorian’s per his father’s request. She was a king woman indeed, and Dorian envied her Markless skin.

But in two months, he too will have the freedom.

… … …

Lady Trevelyan was there as expected, Cullen with his ugly not faux fur beside her, and Dorian tried to supress the bile rising up his throat. It’s been two years since he established any contact with the most important person, his own important life far too busy, but now he was done with it.

If he was to be an important person, if he was to be the centre of all the rumours, then he would make sure that he would stand above the most important person by giving everyone the most scandalous story they would ever hear.

A techie ran into a model, and Dorian found himself gracefully helping her to her feet. Tonight would be a revelation of another kind.

… … …

Fashion shows are the showcase of a designer’s aesthetic, it shows everyone their creative minds and what they want to achieve. It was an abstract form of art; some splattered paint on a canvas to convey their emotions, Dorian created complex designs with expensive fabric to show his thoughts.

So it started; the entire show was in luxurious splashes of colour created from silk brocade, highever weave, velveteen and his infamous silk. The materials were imbedded with glittering jewels and hard leather, creating the very images of gems and quarries, mines too deep for the average man and treasures too expensive for the rich.

To the stranger it must have looked like a simple eccentric fashion show, but to the aware it was a declaration on its own; I hate that I love you.

The show was coming to an end, and the final masterpiece was ready.

Stepping out onto stage, not in a strut but a confident swagger like a toad, Dorian presented himself to the world in a manner which he has never before.

Dressed in leather boots glittering with diamonds and buckles, identical leather pants with a skirt of silk and diamonds trailing behind him, and tucked into it a tight black shirt with a broken heart of diamonds on his chest. Two black leather armbands around his upper arms, leaving the explosion of colour and the entire implication of the show for the world to see.

The crowd was quiet, only the music blocking out the thundering of Dorian’s heartbeat.

He came to the end of the catwalk, and the music died down.

“I thank you all for attending, as you know the discussion of my Mark has been quite the scandal in the past few years of my life, it is thus that I intend to end this.”

He flexed his arms in a manner for all to see.

“I bear two Marks, and aren’t they simply the most gorgeous you have ever seen?”

A few were openly admiring them as he spoke, and he knew that the initial hasn’t worn off yet, but he could see that they were slowly understanding where he was heading to.

“Every designer draws inspiration from various things to perfect their aesthetic, and so I have decided to relaunch myself with the most scandalous aesthetic one could ever muster; the aesthetic of my mirror Marks.”

He made the mistake of meeting Cullen’s eyes, and he hesitated for too long.

“My Marks do not define my fame and fortune, write and speak all you want about me, but from this day onwards, Dorian Pavus denounces himself as a pawn of Fate.”

With his improvised speech _Cullen’s eyes made him forget_ he gave a bow and exited the stage. The damage has been done, Dorian Pavus has mirror Marks – and now everyone knows.

… … ..

_Do you think his lover abuses him?_

_What’s the sex like?_

_Are they bipolar?_

_Do you think he’s still gay?_

_Only a man would be able to endure such a burden, no woman could ever make him suffer._

Of course, the rumours only got worse, but it also made Dorian rich.

His new clothing line was the greatest success to be ever found in fashion history, he became one of the most important people, soon he had his own estate and his own dinner parties – which Lady Trevelyan never attended – but all too soon the consequences of his actions took hold of him.

He knew Cullen held his Mark _which Dorian proudly displayed for all to see, to know he is untouchable by both love and hate_ but he never expected the man to ruin his life.

A year after his public declaration, and the Spymaster’s front cover had Dorian’s Mark on skin too light for his own.

_Cullen Rutherford and Lady Trevelyan’s fake relationship………. His enemy died while serving in the same squad……….. his real lover……….. Dorian Pavus………. Scandal past the point of no return._

… … …

Two weeks later Dorian was invited to Lady Trevelyan’s estate, which led him to being forced into another dinner with the man whom he both loved and hated. And for once in his life, Dorian was the blunt one;

“Why the fuck did you do it?”

“Dorian, I-”

“I know you knew! But why the fuck would you declare yourself my enemy!”

“Why did you show your Marks!”

“Because I was tired of the fucking rumours!”

“I was too!”

They yelled each other into submission, Lady Trevelyan has left long ago and the two were left alone. Cullen growled and banged his hand against the table.

“And what do you mean I declared you my enemy-”

“In your and Lady Trevelyan’s agreement, she said she would get your lover’s Mark-”

“That was a lie dammit.”

Dorian had no words.

“I knew who my enemy was, but if we showed the Marks then… then my real lover would think I’m taken, I would have never had a chance.”

Dorian sighed and rubbed at his temples. He wanted to cry, he was so tired.

“I just don’t understand any of this, how can I have two of the same and you only one… how does that even work?”

“You irritate me.”

“What?”

“But it doesn’t linger… when you kissed me, I was surprised and well, my reflexes aren’t envied by many.”

Dorian was still very confused.

“But-”

“Dorian, what do you feel for me.”

“I hate what you did to me, what you forced me to do – to reveal this to the world -”

“-but?”

“But, your charms leave me quite flustered if I say so myself.”

“It won’t be easy.”

“It would be delightfully scandalous.”

“But, I would like to try.”

Dorian looked down at his exposed arms, at the promise they held.

“It won’t be a happy relationship…”

“That’s where you’re wrong.”

The blond took off his jacket, revealing his arm exposed by the sleeveless top – his arm which –

“What the fuck-”

But Dorian was silenced as the blond reached across the table to passionately kiss him. You never knew your lover until you kissed, and you never knew you enemy until you hurt each other – and somehow Dorian was beyond caring what Cullen was to him anymore.

… … …

His inner forearm decorated by brilliant glittering stones, seductively intertwining each other in colours of brilliant teal and crimson red. The reflected against each other creating a deep royal purple.

The colour was metallic, glittering with a twist of the arm, and in the cracks they left behind came through more and more stones.

It was an endless mine of passion, embedded in dark skin.

His entire inner arm decorated with the same glittering stones, yet where it shoukd have stopped it only continued the same pattern upwards.

... ... ...

A normal Mark wraps right around from the wrist to the elbow.

Their mark created an endless stretch from wrist to armpit.

Its size to be envied, its colour never to be matched by anyone.

A love so passionate, it could barely be contained within one arm.

 

 


End file.
